On my way to work about a week ago, I noticed a flyer on the corner for a missing cat. I always hate to see that. But then I always keep my eyes peeled.
On the way home today, Doofenshmirtz and I saw a black kitten trying to cross the street. I tapped my horn to send it back onto the lawn. It jumped but didn’t move onto the lawn. It seemed confused. I slowed to stop, and we noticed that it was not a kitten, but a very old black (and grey) cat who is just skinny, and possibly blind. I tapped my horn a couple more times in the hopes that it would crawl back up into the yard and not try to cross the street.
Doofenshmirtz immediately asked if we should try to grab the cat and take it with us. She of course was concerned for its well-being. Since I’m not in the habit of kidnapping (catnapping?) animals out of peoples front yards, my answer was “no”, and we headed home.
As I came to the pole with the missing-cat flyer, I did a U-turn, and pulled up next to it so Doofenshmirtz could call the number. She called, and of course no one answered, so she left a message. We did notice that the picture on the flyer looked suspiciously like the cat we had just seen. So we decided to go back and check its collar.
We pulled up in front of the house, and Doofenshmirtz picked up a very unwilling cat. She brought it into the truck, where it became happy again. It purred, loved on us, and sneezed a bunch of cat boogers all over. Good thing we had just been to the store and had a mega pack of toilet paper on the floorboard. (I mention this because you must now picture my vehicle with a roll of toilet paper on the dash). He was also most definitely blind. She managed to swing it’s collar around, and discovered that his name was Armando (of COURSE it was). His address was 103 River Bend. I looked across the street, and there was 103! How convenient!
I pulled into the driveway, and slowly got out of my door so that I would not scare Blind Armando. I rang the doorbell, and an elderly woman answered. I was very excited to tell her that we had found her cat. She looked confused and told me that she did not own a cat. I told her that was strange, since Blind Armando’s collar clearly read “103 River Bend”. She gestured to the street in front of her and answered, “Well, this is San Rafael”. (of course it was)
Back in the truck, we made our way to 103 RIVER BEND. It was easy to find, because as we pulled up, another black cat was crossing the road in front of us (lucky!). There was also a white cat sleeping under a car, a striped kitty in the yard, and an orange cat at the front porch to greet us. We were hopeful we had found the right place! The garage door was open, and we waited a moment to see if someone came out. When no one did, I went to the front door and rang the bell. Orange Kitty seemed expectant, and waited at my feet. I wondered if it was dinner time. No one came to the door.
I went back to the truck and sat with Doofenshmirtz and Blind Armando as we tried to decide what to do. We figured that if the other cats reacted warmly to Blind Armando, or if he was happy to see (oops) smell/hear them, then that would give us our answer.
She took Blind Armando into the grass and sat down. Orange Kitty came over to greet the two of them. We were now fairly certain that Blind Armando was home. But we still hated to leave him. Meanwhile, Doofenshmirtz had texted her boyfriend Johnny that she had found a blind cat named Armando, and was keeping him. Johnny’s response was, “Really? This? Why is this your thing today?” (her last “thing” was crying about how much she wanted a chinchilla). His answer (as well as mine) was “no”.
Doofenshmirtz sat in the yard with both cats and a boo-boo face until I decided it was time to leave. She wanted to make one last attempt to verify his home, so she went next-door to ask the neighbor if he recognized Blind Armando. He casually waved toward the house and said I’m sure he lives there, all those cats live there, that guy lets them roam the neighborhood. (of course he does)
We decided to leave Blind Armando on the front porch, and drive around the block to make sure he stayed put, and didn’t try to venture back out into the mean streets. When we came back around, he had made his home under a car with one of the other cats. We felt comfortable enough to leave.
About that time, Doofenshmirtz’ phone rang, and it was the number she had called from the missing-cat flyer. The woman on the line explained that she did not own a cat. (of course she didn’t) She said she assumed it was her son playing some kind of prank on her, because she continues to get calls from people about her nonexistent cat.
I came home. Gave my kitties some love, and purred myself a drink.